synopsis: higuruma has a habit of taking particularly hopeless cases. this one was no different. it's a good thing he has a way to work out his frustration—you!
or: hiromi higuruma fucks you dumb!
MDNI || CW: hiromi higuruma x afab!reader, no use of y/n, established relationship [engaged], porn with minimal plot, he's handsy, dry humping, spanking, he's a little mean, use of various pet names [pretty girl, baby, sweet girl], fingering, talking shit abt his job whilst he fucks you, you call him sir x2, creampie.
Word Count: 1.7K (holy moly)
he had been warned against taking this case.
shimizu had told him it was hopeless, that it would cause more harm than good, that it wasn't even worth their time. higuruma, of course, took the case anyways.
now, after weeks of sleepless nights, away from you, it all fell through—life in prison. he had trudged his way to the train station and back to your shared apartment.
you knew better than to text him just after a case. especially when it had a high likelihood of not going his way. even you had warned him to maybe let this one go, but your fiancé is stubborn. you love him for it, truly, but you don't love the way he forgets to care for himself when he gets this caught up in his work. don't like how he forgets that he can't help everyone.
the clock ticked softly, the shitty reality show droned on quietly in the background on the TV as you waited for him to get home. he was late, but that was to be expected.
you had done all you could to try help him relax once he arrived: his favourite meal was prepped and ready to cook as soon as he wanted food. the bathroom was cleaned and had all his products set out for him. you'd even renewed that one subscription for a streaming service so you could both cuddle and watch that one terrible show he liked.
he ignored all of that.
hiromi has you folded over the arm of the couch seconds after he arrives home, humping you through his slacks, suit jacket discarded on the floor and tie loosened. your own shorts have been pulled off your hips, now pooled at your feet.
chest pressing against your back, his face face is buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, licking at your sweat-slicked skin. you shiver at the sensation, a shaky gasp pushing past your lips as your knees buckle under his weight.
"jesus. fuck- hiromi, baby, slow down."
your plea falls on deft ears as he grabs at your thighs, your hips, your ass—anywhere and everywhere he can get his hands on.
his touch is firm and desperate, just shy of painful. the sting sends a shiver down your spine and you press your thighs together as you try to ignore the wetness that's starting to soak through your panties.
hiromi hooks his fingers into the fabric of your underwear and pulls it aside, hot breath ghosting along your skin as low groan fills the room.
"this fuckin' wet for me already? you're pathetic." he scoffs out before he bites down on your neck, tongue darting out to trace the indents of his teeth, soothing your skin. "bet you've been real fuckin' needy for me this whole time, hm?
one hand trails up your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and comes to rest on your throat. not grabbing, not squeezing in the way that makes your head rush and has you all dumb for him, just there. the other remains torturously close to where you want him most, knuckles grazing against your wet slit.
"been trying to do my job and all you've been thinking about is getting fucked."
he fumbles to undo his slacks, the sound of the zip sending a jolt of excitement through you. you can't help but wiggle your ass against him impatiently, relishing in the heat radiating from him.
a sharp thwack! fills the room, followed by a yelp as his hand lands on your ass. you look over your shoulder at him, jaw dropped and brows knitted together in confusion and pleasure.
"hiro?!"
"answer my question."
"huh? wha-"
thwack!
thwack!
you whine as the sharp pain ripples through you, pussy fluttering around nothing, heat blooming across your skin. damn him, you think.
"yes, been needy. missed you. 'm sorry!"
your words come out in a breathless, quiet whine.
"better."
the air is thick with tension and an intense primal need that neither of you have felt in a long while.
hiromi grabs a handful of the fat of your ass, spreading you open and leaning back to watch the way your pussy lips swallow the damp fabric of your underwear. he bites back a groan, dick twitching at the sight. he slots a leg between yours, spreading them wider.
"heh, knew she fuckin' missed me."
he wasn't speaking to you when he said that, was he?
the hand at your neck suddenly slides back down your body. his slender finger taps against your clit before finally pulling your underwear off, sliding them down your hips. his hips jerk forward as his fingers glide through your soaked folds, collecting your essence.
he hums in approval.
you moan out his name.
"fuckin' hell, pretty girl."
hiromi's voice is a rough groan as he oh so slowly pushes two fingers into you. he curls them just right, pads of his fingers brushing against that gooey spot inside you.
your legs buckle at the intrusion, eyes fluttering closed as he begins to pump his fingers in and out.
in and out.
it's torturously slow, but so divine.
your face heats up at the sound of the wet schlicks and at that familiar tension beginning to bubble in your stomach.
"been cooped up in that office for so long. 'm so sorry, baby. been neglecting you." he sighs out, relishing in the sight of your glistening pussy sucking up his fingers.
"it's–ohmygod–okay. couldn't be helped. fuck, feels so good."
hiromi smirks, withdrawing his hand from between your legs, "too bad."
you scowl and open your mouth to protest.
until the tip of his dick glides through your folds and prods at your entrance. any complaints you have die on your tongue.
higuruma bottoms out in one swift motion before leaning into you again. a broken sob tears its way from your throat, your gummy walls clenching and pulsing as you struggle to adjust to the stretch.
he doesn't give you time to adjust, either.
he presses you further into the leather of the couch—now warm and damp from your body heat and sweat. you stretch out your arms to catch yourself.
"can't stand that judge." he starts, grinding his hips into the plush your ass. you whine as the tip of his cock bumps against your cervix. he pulls back slowly, and you swear you feel every vein and ridge of him as he does. "hah, 'fair trial', my ass."
hiromi takes a firm hold of your hips before he starts moving his own. rough. relentless.
"i'm s-sorry that, hicc, it went so badly." is all you can manage.
your skin sticks to the leather beneath you as loud squelching sounds fill the room. fuck, you missed him. missed this. you push your ass back to meet him.
"oh nooo, baby." he coos, thumb rubbing small circles into your skin as he continues to fuck into you. "not your fault, don't apologise."
you can already feel that tension pooling low in your gut growing by the second—how embarrassing. it has definitely been too long. you clench around him, vision turning hazy as tears prick at your waterline.
"so full, hiro."
"oh, i know. you close, pretty girl?" he rasps. if he'd had any sense of patience left, your little whines would have snapped it in two.
you give him a weak nod, and he slams his hips into yours.
"nuhuh. use your words. c'mon."
god, you aren't sure if you can.
his breath fans against your ear in short pants, skin sticks to yours—scorching. hard muscles dig into your back. that, combined with the way he's bullying his cock into you and splitting you open, is all too much. your hands clench into fists: nails digging into your palms, knuckles squeaking against the couch.
"s' close. please, hiromi."
when was the last time you sounded that desperate for him? every word is shaky and followed by a breathy whine.
"aw, come on," higuruma teases, nipping at your earlobe, "you can do so much better than that, sweet girl."
a sharp thrust of his hips to emphasise his point. it knocks the air from your lungs.
"fuck. need to cum on your cock. pleasepleaseplease, sir."
the honorific slips out before you realise you'd even thought of using it.
oops.
his thrusts come to a halt. you mewl in protest. he laughs quietly, his hand lifting to cup your jaw and turn your head to face him.
"shit, baby. 'sir'? you have no idea what you do to me."
the look in his eyes is dangerous. you realise you've stirred something inside him that neither of you were aware of. already knowing he's going to ask you to repeat yourself, you jump the gun. you push back slowly, wincing and whining at the stretch, and grind your ass against him.
"pretty please, hiro? 'm being so good for you so far, sir."
how can he not oblige you when you sound so sweet?
he keeps his grip on your jaw—gaze boring into your own. the hand on your hip slithers between you and the couch, finding your clit: swollen and needy. he picks up his pace again, stuffing every inch into your weeping cunt. your lips meet, a clash of teeth and tongue and muffled moans.
it's pure and utter bliss, and you can feel your orgasm drawing closer by the second. senses and nerves overwhelmed, your kisses grow sloppier, hips twitching rather than fucking yourself against him.
higuruma, of course, knows your little tells all too well. the corner of his mouth quirks up. voice rough and tinged with need, he demands, "give it to me."
and you do.
your whole body tenses, pussy spasming violently around his cock as your orgasm hits you hard. your jaw drops in a silent scream. eyes rolling back in your head, white hot pleasure ripping through your veins.
chasing his own release, he fucks n kisses you through it: cock twitching and hips stuttering, sounds of skin slapping filling the room. you both groan as hot spurts of cum fill your cunt. you feel so full that it makes you flutter around him again, eliciting a sharp hiss from hiromi as his head comes to rest on your shoulder—face flushed and hair sticking to his sweat-slicked forehead.
the room is quiet, save for the TV and the loud panting of you both attempting to catch your breath. wincing, you pull your arms from the sticky leather and turn around to wrap your arms around your fiancé's shoulders.
"missed you so fucking much."
"missed you too, pretty girl."
a/n: a huge, massive thank you to @reignpage! she very kindly gave me some amazing advice and tips that i will absolutely carry through all of my future works! please go check out her page!! this too!
+ a/n: worked on this for a whole week, and i now have even more respect for authors. this shit is HARD !! i am rlly proud of myself though, even tho i feel like i got a little lazy at the end - so tysm for reading this far <3
synopsis : toji has just returned home from a rough contract, and you're there to help him decompress.
MDNI || CW : toji fushiguro x fem!reader, established relationship, use of pet names [mama], fluff, suggestive towards the end.
this is a rewrite of the first fic i posted on here! mostly the same, just some stylistic changes <3
Word Count: 846
Toji's head throbs as he trudges up the driveway. Every step feels heavy and sluggish. He's exhausted. His contract ran over by two days due to some complications. Shui is going to get the beating of a lifetime the next time they meet.
He stands at the door for a long moment, attempting to shake off the god-awful weariness deep in his bones. Toji can hear you fussing around the house before he even opens the door. It still amuses him that you take such pride in the cleanliness of your shared home, even when you're left to your own devices. If you leave him alone, the tidying is done at the last minute.
Toji takes one final breath before opening the door. His shoulders drop as his senses are overwhelmed by your scent—your body wash, your perfume, that candle you always light. The stress of his work melts away.
You lay in bed, waiting anxiously for your boyfriend to return home. You can never be certain of how he'll be when he gets back. Sometimes, there's barely a scratch. Other times, he's been stuck in bed for a few days while he recovers. Whatever the case, you'll look after him. Like always.
You're lost in thought until the sound of his shoes hitting the floor brings you back to reality. Scrambling to your feet, you almost lose your footing on the rug—a squeal slipping past your lips. The familiar commotion brings a tired smile to Toji's lips.
As you round the corner, you scan him for any signs of injury. He looks fine, you think.
He opens his arms wide as you run towards him, a coarse laugh filling the air. He grunts as your head hits his chest. You snake your arms around him with a relieved sigh, he rests his chin on your head. Toji inhales deeply, revelling in your warmth.
"Missed you, mama," he murmurs into your hair. His calloused hands find their way under your shirt, thumbs tracing circles on your hips. All you can do is nod in agreement. He's been away for longer before, but you struggled with his absence more this time.
Slowly, you slip your hands from his back and into his palms, fingers intertwining with his. You walk backwards towards the sofa and plop down into the cushions, patting the space between your legs. "Sit."
Toji does as he's told. He sets himself down, his back to your chest, with a raised eyebrow. "Bossy today, are we?"
You scoff, rolling your eyes and lifting his shirt over his head. "Calm down, horn dog. Just wanna help you relax." You swear you can hear him pout. (He does.)
Your hands begin to roam across his back—fingers following every dip and peak—before settling on his shoulders. You start working out the knots and tension in his muscles, trying to be gentle. Toji winces, a sharp hiss pushing past his teeth. He lets his head drop forward with a groan.
He tells you about his time away as you continue to pinch and rub his muscles. His stories almost always lack significant detail. You're aware of the nature of his job; it's usually contracts for dealing with thugs or debt collection, but sometimes it's something more dangerous. You don't mind it. You know Toji can handle himself. Besides, he brings in a hefty check for those riskier jobs. He cuts himself off with a grunt or "Fuck," whenever you hit a particularly tense spot.
You sit like this for a long time. You update him on the latest gossip in your friend group; how Rin is debating leaving her shitty girlfriend, you explain the new cookie recipe you tried while he was away in great detail, and the newest plot twist in the book you've been reading.
He doesn't just listen, he engages. Toji asks questions, butts in at the right time, laughs at the right things—the way he always does.
"Oh, she finally came to her senses, huh? Took 'er long enough."
"Are there any cookies left? They sound good, 'm starving."
"Can't fuckin' stand sci-fi. I don't get how you read that shit. Glad you're enjoying it, though, mama."
(You don't quite believe that last bit. You've caught him reading bits and pieces when you're in bed together.)
Eventually, he tires of staring at the wall ahead of him and moves to sit beside you on the couch. His hands find your hips and he pulls you into his lap, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. You cock an eyebrow at him, which earns you a chuckle and a gentle slap on the ass.
You roll your eyes with a giggle. "I dunno, man. You kinda stink right now."
Toji laughs, already making quick work of removing your clothes. He lifts you from his lap and sets you down on the couch, clambering on top of you like a man starved. He presses wet kisses to your neck and nips at your skin, murmuring "I love you," like always.
synopsis : It's your second week working in HR at Tokyo General Hospital. You’re still adjusting to the job, still learning, still meeting people and making friends. You meet Dr. Shoko Ieiri whilst setting up for a conference. It’s short and slightly awkward. It should mean nothing, but something about her catches your interest.
MDNI || CW : none really, for now || afab!reader, H.R. employee!reader, sfw, use of y/n for email address
Word Count : 1.7K
After Hours - Master List [need to fix] ☆ art by @/_N3dayo on Twitter
“You’d better tell me if there’s any hotties in that hospital. I am sick of being single. I need you to be my wing-woman.”
Your best friend’s voice comes through the speaker of the car’s radio as you pull into the staff parking lot. She’s been nagging you about finding her someone as soon as you’d told her you got the damn job.
“Yeah, yeah. I get it, Yuki. Find someone that’s hot, figure out if they’re single and give them your number.” You sigh with a smile, pulling down the visor to fix your hair in the mirror.
After a quick rummage through your bag to make sure you have everything, you bid your farewells to Yuki with another promise to find her someone. You take the keys from the ignition and begin making your way to the office.
The cold, sterile environment of the hospital is a stark contrast to any other jobs you’ve worked. The bright fluorescent lights, white walls and tile floors, and minimal decorations don’t exactly create the most welcoming vibe. It’s less daunting than your first few days, but you still have some adjusting to do.
Within a week, you’ve already learned multiple routes to the Human Resources offices—mostly because you gotten lost a few times. You’d managed to stumble into the Solicitors’ offices somehow, which was a floor above where you were meant to be. A particularly busy looking man, Higuruma, had to escort you to the right place.
Thankfully, you have found your way to H.R. without issue today.
After giving everyone a curt wave and hello, you plop yourself down at your desk and begin the increasingly familiar routine of logging onto the computer and setting up everything that you’ll need. With notices read and emails replied to, you decide to grab your first coffee of the day.
The office bustle is strangely comforting as you make your way to the kitchenette. Co-workers chat and gossip, decide who’s turn it is to make coffee for each group, and make plans for after work.
You make a mental note to get to know everyone better, you don’t want to come across as a hermit.
“Mind passing the sugar?”
A voice interrupts your thoughts.
Beside you stands a young man with dishevelled brown hair and a dorky smile on his face. He seems to be in his early twenties, just a few years younger than you. You blink at him for a moment before grabbing the sugar and setting the jar down beside his mug.
“Nice to meet you.” He starts as he spoons an abnormal amount of sugar into his coffee. “I’m Takuma Ino. You’re the new hire, right?”
“Yeah, I just started last week.” You confirm. “Nice to meet you, too!”
You continue to sort your coffee whilst introducing yourself to Takuma. He repeats your name under his breath before smiling.
“Cool. I’m not here long, either. Started a month ago. Let me know if you ever need help with anything.”
“Thank you. That’s really sweet of you.”
He shakes his head, “No biggie. We could all use a helping hand sometimes. Anyways, I need to get back to dealing with an employee issue. I’ll talk to you later.”
You give him a small wave as he walks back to his desk, finish making your coffee, and return to your own desk.
The hot coffee warms you as you glance through your emails. One catches your eye.
To whoever it concerns,
I really think I should be getting paid more to clean up literal shit, as well as the mess that these people leave behind. Why do people struggle to use the bins? Can’t remember what the time period for discussing raises is but thought I could bring it up anyways.
Thanks,
Toji Fushiguro
Maintenance Crew
A smirk crosses your lips as you reread the email. You couldn’t blame him for feeling that way, really. A strangled giggle threatens to slip past your lips as you begin typing your reply.
Dear Mr. Fushiguro,
Whilst I do respect what your work in Maintenance entails, I must remind you that profanity is not permitted when communicating with staff members.
If you’d like, I can set up a meeting between you, your department manager and a member of Human Resources to discuss a possible pay increase?
Please let me know if this works for you.
Kind regards,
Human Resources, Tokyo General Hospital
Someone being themselves is refreshing, but it would be a bad look if you didn’t remind someone of the rules on your second week and you need this job. Badly.
You go about the rest of your afternoon in a similar manner—Replying to emails, drinking coffee, doing some training courses on the computer. The courses could make anyone rip their hair out, honestly.
“If a co-worker says something inappropriate to you do you: say something inappropriate back, hit them, or report them to the correct person?”
This cannot be for real, you think with a roll of your eyes. Unfortunately, it is.
You begrudgingly slug through the course, paying no heed to the stupidity of some of the questions for sanity’s sake.
Thoughts drift back to your promise to Yuki, then to Ino. Would Yuki be into him? He’s cute, seems sweet, has a steady job. You’ll mention him to her whenever you get to know him better.
Ten minutes later, the completion screen feels a gift from the heavens. You push back from your desk, stretching your legs out beneath it.
“Ahem.”
Oh, shit.
“Ms. Iori! Hi. Sorry.”
Utahime Iori, the Head of H.R, is nothing short of a dream employer. She's a good teacher, treats you as an equal, and doesn't act as if she's plagued by your naivety.
Planting your feet to the ground, you pull your chair back in and straighten up.
“What can I do for you?”
She gives you a small smile, “No need to apologise! Sitting down all day calls for a stretch. I need you to run across the hall to the meeting room and set it up. There’s a talk happening for the new med students. You should need fifteen chairs.”
“Yeah, of course. Just set up chairs and the computer?”
“Mhm! Thank you, dear.”
Silently glad that it’s nearby, you grab your jacket and make your way out the door. You quickly spot the sign beside a door reading “Conference Room”. At least you weren’t going to intrude on a random department this time.
The conference room well equipped: there’s a large table in the middle, stacks of chairs line the walls, a projector is mounted on the wall behind a podium.
You get to work, taking chairs from the stacks and moving them to the table. It doesn’t take too long, the worst thing is deciding how much space to leave between them. Setting up the computer should be fine, too. You just need to unlock it and make sure it’s connected to the Wi-Fi.
Password is incorrect. Try again.
Are you fucking kidding me?
You type it again, maybe you made a typo.
limitl3ss!r3d_066
Password is incorrect. Try again.
You stare blankly at the screen, at the flashing cursor. You’re almost certain that it’s the right password.
As you rattle your brain and try to figure out if you missed a number or special character, someone knocks at the door.
“C’mon in.”
The door clicks open, followed by the sound of heels on the floor.
“Sorry, I didn’t realise someone else was setting up the room for me. Thank you.”
You glance up quickly.
A woman in a lab coat stands in front of you.
“It’s no problem. So, you’re the doctor giving the talk?”
Her lips quirk up into an amused smile.
“Yes. Doctor Ieiri, but you can call me Shoko. Pleasure to meet you.”
She moves around to your side of the podium and cocks her head at the computer screen.
You steal another glance at Dr. Ieiri—she has a freckle beneath her right eye, green eyes—before directing your attention back to the password issue.
“Oh, yeah. The password they gave me last week isn’t working anymore. I’m, uh, not sure what they changed it to. I was about to go as–”
Shoko chuckles, “Had to change it because of a security breach. Let me.”
Her shoulder bumps into yours as her slender fingers move across the keyboard.
When she finishes typing, she clicks ‘Show password.’
s!xey3s_123
“Ah. I’ll ask for it again in the office and make note of it.”
She hums in acknowledgement and turns to face you.
“Office? Which department are you with? I haven’t seen you around before.”
“I’m in human resources. I just started last week. It’s nice here.” You chirp, giving her a small smile. “Which department do you work in, Doctor?”
There’s a strange look on her face—eyebrows knitted together, an almost critical look in her eyes.
“General Medicine.”
“Ah, okay.”
She gives you that look again, and you can’t help but raise your eyebrows in confusion. Shoko seems to notice her expression and quickly relaxes her face.
“Anyway, my students will be here shortly. I’m happy to finish setting up. Thank you for your help.”
You nod briefly and step away from the podium and towards the door, grabbing your jacket from the table. “Best of luck. Nice meeting you.”
The walk back to your desk isn’t long enough for you to process what happened. Why was she looking at you like that? Did you say something dumb?
The last hour of work passes in a blur, and before you realise it, it’s time to go home.
You gather your things and make your way back to the staff car park. Sighing, you slide into your car. The smell of the lavender air freshener is a welcome change from the cold, sterile air of the hospital. You rummage through your bag for your keys and phone. After finding both, you start the car and bring up Yuki’s phone number.
It rings for a long moment before she answers.
“Hi, hun. How was work today? Any luck with your promi–”
